Lessons by Letters
by Azure K Mello
Summary: Spike goes to Angel after coming back post season 7. ON A BREAK.
1. S is for Sire

S is for Sire  
  
Author's notes- thanks to Ayla for being a great beta, but who didn't read this as it has spoilers for season seven's final. I know I haven't updated recently but here's something to tide you over until I come back from Wales where I'm going to for three weeks to celebrate my grandparent's golden wedding. Anyway here it is.  
  
Disclaimer: The title is stolen from the poem "M is for Mother" but I don't know who wrote that. I don't own anything, not even my shoes. Don't sue me, I have no money.  
  
Warning: mild slash. Don't like, don't read, don't flame.  
  
Rating- this part pg-13 the rest (if there is any) mild R.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The door I was leaning on opened slowly and I fell into the building. I had been knocking for hours or maybe just moments. The sun was about to rise, I felt ill inside at the thought of being out there when it did. I fell into the building and on to the floor. He stood above me, I could tell though my eyes were shut. He gave a slight gasp at my state. Covered in blood, clothes shredded, face emaciated, I must be a sight for sore eyes. He nudged me slightly in the side to see if I moved. Undoubtedly he regretted the action as I started to vomit on his floor. The tears welled up in my eyes and I willed them not to fall, but to no avail. My whole body shuddered with the force of my tears. Sighing heavily he pulled me into the foyer of the hotel. It was then that he realized I had a pulse. After nearly dropping me in shock, he deposited me on the round red couch. He pushed the hair that was stuck to my face with blood off my forehead.  
"That was a fun filled trinket you gave Buffy." I said sullenly.  
"What happened, Spike," he asked me, "how did the fight end?"  
"The little girls got away while I siphoned the sun into the Hellmouth like a mirror and burst into flames! That's how it ended, you pillock!" I screamed.  
"Then what happened?" asked Angel with a hint of urgent desperateness.  
"I waited for hell's fires to kick in as I knew I was dead. But the PTB seemed to have forgotten about me. I spent months in the dark, without a form and with an itch in my non-corporeal neck that my nonexistent hands couldn't scratch and suddenly I was back here stuck in this body that was doing all these foreign things that it just shouldn't be able to do. It's so claustrophobic in here with all these noises." I burst into a fresh batch of tears, ashamed at crying in front of him but to angry and scared to stop. "Did you know this would happen? Did you know?" I said on the verge of hysterics.  
"Christ! No, Spike, would I do this to you? Do you think I'm that unfeeling?" he said hurt obvious in his eyes at the accusation. "I would never do that to you. I know how you felt about being human."  
He pulled me closer to him; I cried in earnest into his shoulder. Since when did Angel wear denim jackets, I wondered as I clung to his lapels. I was suddenly reminded of those girls in the airports that cling to their lovers' lapels and have to have their fingers physically uncurled from them. A sudden wave of guilt swept over me as I thought of how many of the said girls I had eaten. Heightened emotions made the blood sweeter. Sweating as my stomach flipped, I thought I might vomit again. "I don't deserve this. I should have gone to hell, I was wicked. I was the big bad damn it! Instead I'm thrown back here. And it all hurts, much more than eternal torture. I don't understand what they want with me." I wept into his neck.  
"You're not evil, Spike, you never have been. Hell, you even seeked out your own soul. It's supposed to be a reward." Said Angel softly as he stroked the back of my head. "There was a prophecy wherein the vampire with a soul fought in the apocalypse and was made human as a reward."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I felt so badly for the boy in my arms. He was my son, my childe, my lover, my world and I had managed to destroy him. The boy in my arms was just that, a living, breathing boy at age twenty-two. He coughed, a cold he'd had for a hundred and some years rearing it's ugly head. He looked up and met my eyes with his own dark blue orbs. "I went out in a blaze, you would have been proud. Or, at least, you would have been less ashamed of me. I know you never loved me, I know you were embarrassed by me, but you always took care of me, you did the right thing. And I did the right thing for once too. I saved the world. I should have died a hundred years ago, old and alone in bed. I should have been killed the night you turned me, I would have if it hadn't been for your mercy. I should have died a million times since from drunkenly passing out in allies before the sun came up, but you dragged me away from the light. Instead I died doing the one noble thing I ever did. And it should have ended there. You could have been proud, not loathed my memory. As it stands I have to follow my own act. I am and always have been a waste of space as a human. I'm a loser, there are no two ways about it. This is supposed to be a reward?"  
I didn't know what to say. I felt like a father when his baby asks him why the world sucks. How could I explain to him why people go hungry and children die? How could I explain why this was supposed to be a good thing? I hated myself for making him not feel loved. The fact was that without a soul I had loathed him for making me feel so human: weak in my love for him. I had been harsh, and cruel, and had never once told him what he'd meant to me. But I had never NOT been proud of him. He was my golden boy. Not knowing how to utter any of this. I simply held him closer. I could feel his pulse, hard and sharp in his chest.  
"I hate you." He said sullenly as his sobs subsided. "This is your fault, stupid ponce with your stupid feminine necklace."  
I rolled my eyes, glad to hear some faint traces of my childe's spirit. "What can I do to help you?"  
He looked up at me, his eyes still strangely dark. Slowly, Spike tilted his head to the side exposing a length of flesh. He cocked one of his eyebrows in that trademarked fashion of his. "How 'bout it?" he asked. "A few sips and I'm done. I'm off the mortal coil."  
I recoiled at his words. "Spike, sweetheart, I, I can't do that. I, I, I can't tur-"  
"I'm not asking you to turn me, Sire." He interrupted with a bitter edge. "Do you honestly think I'm that callous? I know you could never do it, that you'd view it as hurting me. I'm not asking you for that. For while it's what I really want, I know it would destroy you. I'm asking you to please kill me. I can't do this mortal thing, I'm no good at it. I have no human grace. I won't die old and alone in bed anymore: I've experienced to much to live like that again. So all I'm asking you is to please kill me." He said his piece evenly as though it were common sense and not him begging for death.  
"No!" I said as I manhandled his head into a straight position. "I can't kill you! You're a good man, Spike. You'll get use to this in the end. Remember, you resented being turned at the beginning and wished for life or at least death?"  
"I am aren't I?" he asked absently. "A man I mean, not a one good necessarily. What was it you used to say to me? 'We might walk men but we're not,' well I am. A man that is." His eyes were suddenly darker than ever. He shook his head slowly as he said. "You're not my sire." He pulled away from me, trying to get out of the position he'd placed himself in on my lap. It felt like he'd ripped my un-beating heart out of my chest. I knew he never liked though he always loved me, I knew he felt abandoned when I got my soul, however, I never thought he would disown me. Just because he was a human didn't mean I couldn't be his father. Or did it? Suddenly he voiced my thoughts. "Are you?" he asked after only a moments pause. "Because I don't know what the hell I am. All I know is that the minute I found myself on the corporeal plane I ran to you. I thought you could help me. I don't know if you're my sire. I know you never really liked the mantel even when you were. I don't know who you are." He said sounding totally crestfallen and tired as he stood on his own two feet. "All I know is that I want my sire, and I wish you were."  
My William standing there sounding so dejected pulled on a part of me I tried so hard to stamp down upon. The demon within me roared as it witnessed, what it considered to be, its kith and kin tremble so. And without thinking I reached out and dragged him roughly to me. I heard a bone in his wrist snap at my force, but it didn't matter as it would heal momentarily. My visage faded into that of my true nature as I bit deeply into his neck. He clutched my shoulders and sighed in an oddly contented way. I drained him leaving only enough to turn him. I tasted so much of myself in his blood that it made me wonder if this was William at all or if the PTB had truly made Spike human. It didn't matter as in a moment he would be my childe, my Spike. Ripping savagely into my wrist, I wasted no time getting blood down his throat. He couldn't die I wouldn't let that happed. I watched as he nursed and worried the wound. When he was thoroughly done I picked him up and carried him up to my room. I laid him down and waited for him to rise. He rolled over, still hours from rising, and he muttered softly the word sire before stilling again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Should I go on or is this done? 


	2. C is for Childe

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: C is for Childe (2/?)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- angst abounds  
  
Description: Spike went to Angel for help . . . and Angel did? But wouldn't that make Spike evil?  
  
Disclaimer- clearly I own nothing. The sentence: now let me go. is stolen directly from I Only Have Eyes for you. You could say but it's only four words it can't be stolen, which is legally true but I just have this vision of the woman teacher saying it to the janitor. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I woke up laying on my side looking down at my feet with the top of my head pressing against something hard. The something hard was vibrating with soft rumbles. My sire's purring comforted my slightly and I relaxed into is hold. Keeping my eyes shut did not fool him and he said softly, "Are you hungry?"  
I sighed heavily. "We're pretending to be asleep, Angel. Don't ask silly questions, just pretend to be asleep with me." I said sounding petulant and childish I'm sure.  
He laughed his soft warm laugh and kissed the top of my head as he pulled me closer to him. With our chests flush against each other I suddenly realized why I was so fascinated with his purring: my chest wasn't moving. I pulled him closer to me as I vamped out. I was only slightly aware that I was hyperventilating as I started to cry. Angel said nothing but caressed my back in small soothing circles. "Thank-you . . . Sire." I said in a whisper that only vampiric hearing would detect.  
My sire hushed me and twisted a lock of my hair around his finger. "Are you hungry?" he asked again.  
Smirking I said. "We're supposed to be pretending to be asleep."  
I could feel his grin against my shoulder, "I'll give you asleep."  
Suddenly he started to torture me in the way only my sire could. Curse the god that made me ticklish. Screaming only encouraged the bastard. Perpetrating the only offence that would get him to stop, I bit him, earning me a clout around the ear. And he screamed, "Fuck me in the eye." Followed by some rather colourful Gaelic expressions.  
Unwittingly I had vamped during his barrage and upon biting I had bit clean though his skin and into a nerve. I licked the wound and whispered, "See what happens when you're cruel to poor little animals?"  
He laughed and kissed me full on the lips. "But you're my poor little animal." he said.  
I looked into his eyes and sobered, "I am yours. You know that right? I've always been yours and nothing I tried to do changed that. It didn't matter that Dru made me: you were always my Sire. You were and always will be my be all and end all." I sat up and tried to pull away to run from his reply, which would undoubtedly break me. I should have just been happy my anal retentive sire was letting me lay on his bed while covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. My sire loved Buffy, he loved Drusilla, and Penn, he loved Darla but had never loved me. He had taken care of me because my own sire was incapable, but I had never been his childe in his mind. He grabbed my wrist and I was too fucking weak to get away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
He sat there with his back to me his body rising and falling with the power of unneeded yet hitched breath. My poor lost childe was sitting there dejected, his shoulders slumped. "Why do you always run?" I asked with an edge compelling my childe to reply.  
"Why do you ask the questions to which you already know the answer?" he said softly. He looked back at me with so much hurt and pain in his eyes, "I run because I fear what's coming next. And it's probably the one smart thing I ever do. Now let me go."  
"Spike," I said softly pulling him back to bed. "Honey, I love you too. Now stop spazing."  
"Thank-you, for saying it. It's kind of you." He said and I started to respond but he cut me off. "It doesn't matter that it's not true you don't have to, I understand."  
"I do." I said slightly angry that he didn't accept it. "How could I not?" A brief flash of concealed pain flashed across his face. "Just say it, Will. What's the matter? Why don't you believe me?"  
  
"I believe that you like me very much. That you love me in the un-conditional soft love of a parent. But you don't love me the way I love you, the way I want you to love me. I love you. I love your stupid poncy hair, I loved you when you took me in, when you thrashed me, when you sang to me in Gallic when I was sick. I love that this scar was your doing," he said touching his eyebrow. "I love that there is one under your armpit that's mine.  
"I get the shivers watching your compassion to people: the same shivers I got from your ceaseless and imaginative violence. I feel like the world is sitting in my stomach when you talk to me. Touching you is like fire. I could die when you laugh. I want to spend my life with you. Fuck a happiness curse: just standing next to you gives me my moment of pure happiness. Don't tell me you feel that way."  
"Spike, I love you. I don't know how I can say that to make you believe it. You are now and have always been my childe. I love you so much it hurts." I said shaking my head slowly disgusted that I couldn't prove it to him.  
"Ok," he said sounding dejected. " Would you let go of me?"  
"You don't believe me." I said feeling suddenly so tired of the runaround we gave each other.  
" You never came for me," he said softly not looking at me.  
"What?"  
"Everything I did while you were Angelus I did for you. The slayers. Fuck man, I killed children to prove myself. You didn't even seem to notice. Everything I've ever done since you left, I did so you would come back. I took care of Dru so that you didn't have to feel guilty about abandoning your 'poor crazy daughter'. I let you alone hoping you just wanted space. I stopped you from destroying the world to make you proud, so that you wouldn't regret it later. I tortured you for some stupid accessory; I thought you'd realize I was acting up so you would notice me. I fought with Buffy because you couldn't. I tried to be with her so you would get jealous and come back."  
"Jealous of you?" I asked trying to understand.  
He rolled his eyes. "No, you stupid dolt, jealous of her. That she could touch what was yours. I got so angry, you just didn't care. I tried to rape her: anything so you would take note. I felt badly, I love Buffy as a brother loves his sister and our entire stint together was painful and rash. I went home spoke to my friend Clem, I couldn't figure out what was left to do. I kept asking him: 'what have I done, what haven't I done, why didn't I do it?' What could I do to get through to you? What haven't I done?" he asked laughing and then he continued on. "So I went out and got myself a fucking soul, can you imagine? I had all these wonderful vision of you swooping in coat billowing and welcoming me into the society of the ensouled like a sire. I thought you would take care of me. As it was I ended up mad in the school basement being coerced into killing dozens if not hundreds by the First Evil. You never came. So I thought hey if at first you don't seceded right? So I went back to Buffy hoping for the double whammy: don't touch my childe, moreover my SOULMATE. So what happens next? I see you two macking it in a crypt while the First whispers sweet nothings in my ear that she's a skanky bitch and that you never loved me. So I did the last desperate thing I could: I died fighting the good fight eager that maybe you would mourn me. You didn't even know I was dead. Don't tell me you love me with an all-consuming love. And don't pity me. I'm not fragile; I'm just naive."  
"I didn't know, baby."  
"Bull!" he screamed. "It's called the Sire/Childe bond and it's real."  
"I severed it years ago." I said softly feeling guiltier than I ever had: no, I haven't killed somebody; I just broke my little boy.  
"Because you didn't want to be connected to someone so weak? You didn't give a damn about what I was thinking and feeling?" He said his words filled with cold resigned malice.  
"Because I couldn't bear not being the center of your every waking thought, your dreams, I wasn't at the root of every emotion and I couldn't stomach it. I didn't think you wanted me all ensouled as you put it. I couldn't bear to hear you and feel you if I couldn't be with you. So I cut it. I didn't know where you were since I last saw you. And then Buffy tells me that you're together and that you have a soul and that you make her happy. And it killed me. But what's that old expression? If you love something let it go. And I had hurt you both so many times that I left. I think she thought I was proud of you, for fighting the good fight, for getting a soul. I wasn't proud. I couldn't be proud of you for those things when I'm so proud of you just for being you. You can't do anything to make me more proud of you than I already am. I wanted to die that night when I went home: I hadn't even gotten to see you. But I thought you were hers, that you had no interest in seeing me. I left and I cried all the way back here. Fuck, I bleed for you, the way you bled for everything. You always knew what you wanted. You're amazing. You're beautiful." I realized I was crying and laughed. "You're fucking effulgent. I love you. Remember that time Darla beat me 'til I couldn't walk?" I asked Spike nodded. " It was because she wasn't the object of my adoration and she damn well knew it."  
"Adoration? Now there's an archaic word," he said flippantly as he looked back at me with tears pouring down his face.  
I pulled him to me and bit into his neck without saying a word. I focused on all the emotion I had suppressed in order to break the bond. I poured everything I was feeling out metaphorically through my teeth. I heard him gasp and I knew his side of he bond was back up. He was seeing inside my head. I released him and licked the wound until it healed. I pulled back to face him. "Now it's your turn."  
"What do I have to do?" He asked sounding for all the world like a nervous virgin.  
"Just bite me. You never broke our link." I said. I felt his cold breath on my neck and then he was inside me. My boy was finally home. I focused again on censored memories and what it felt like to lose him for all those years. And suddenly I could feel him. I made soft hushing noises as he broke the physical contact.  
"Oh, GOD! Angel, I I I don't know what to say. I" he said in a stunned fashion that made me smile. I wondered when Spike was last phased.  
"You're starving." I said with authority. "And you're tired. Go to sleep and I'll get you something to eat. Kay?" I asked as I sat back up. But instantly I was pulled back down. I saw the look of quiet desperation in Spike's eyes and I kissed him fiercely. He clung to me like a lipid to a stone. My childe had always been tactile. "I love you." I said again as I watched him drift into sleep. 


	3. M is for Mother's milk

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: M is for Mother's Milk (3/24)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- angst abounds and clearly, this is in fact slash.  
  
Description: Angel cooks for his Childe.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless. This is Cordelia Chase, how can I help you?" Rattled off Cordy into the receiver of her cell phone.  
"Cor, it's me." I said as I walked down the stairs.  
"And you made me go through that whole speech? I hate you sometimes."  
"You're gonna love me in a minute." I said walking into the kitchen. "Where are you?" I asked but then saw her leaning into the refrigerator. "You're here early." I said hanging up.  
"I was hungry and had no money." She said as she pealed a banana. I smiled and reached past her into the fridge pulling out eight bags of blood and the box of eggs. "So why am I gonna love you? And why are you eating? You never eat food."  
"Take the day off." I said pouring the blood into a pot and setting it to boil. "The food is for Spike, he's home."  
Cordelia opened and shut her mouth a few times. Sitting down at the counter's stool she said. "Angel, Spike's dead and it's time you came to grips with it."  
"How did you know? I didn't find out until yesterday when HE told me himself. Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Willow told me. I thought you knew. I thought we were playing the, "let's not discuss the real issue," game. Ya know the one we play all the time."  
"Did you know about the soul? That he fought with Buffy for years?" she nodded twice. "Am I the only one out of the loop- don't you dare nod. He shanshued, Cordy, he's back. They brought him back as a human." She looked totally stunned. The blood started to boil and I made a move to put the eggs in.  
"A rule of physics says that you have to put the eggs in when the blood's cool and then bring it to the boil." She absentmindedly. "Those eggs are going to crack. It's the rule of heat expansion. I know that and I failed physics."  
"But the egg would then be wholly sealed. The only thing that can get through the shell is oxygen. To get blood into the egg I need to get them cracked."  
"You're making this for Spike?" I nodded. "Who's human?" she asked incredulously.  
"I never said that. I simply said that he was brought back as a human."  
"Angel, I can't believe you would be so self-"  
"Self motivated, selfish, Yes I was. In forty years time when your youngest comes crying to you, and you haven't seen him cry since he was seven, and he begs for your help. You see if you don't do the most selfish thing in the world. You see if you're not willing to do ANYTHING to not see your baby cry. Then you can judge me." I was shaking with the force of my convictions.  
"He asked you to turn him?" she asked bewildered that anyone would throw humanity away.  
"No, he asked me to kill him." I looked up at Cordy and I knew I was crying. "He said he understood that I couldn't turn him but could I please kill him?"  
"Oh God. Angel, I'm sorry." She said getting up to give me a hug. "Sometimes I forget he's your son and not just William the Bloody." She apologized as I cried into her shoulder. At some point Cordelia had stopped being Queen C. Somewhere down the line she had become a human being. A real live girl. Maybe it was that she helped people daily, maybe it was the visions, maybe it was growing up. As I started to calm down she said softly. "So why eggs?"  
  
"He was a weird fledge. He hated blood and wouldn't feed. I weaned him on to blood with marmite soldiers and bloody eggs." I said as I disentangled myself from her, now in control of my emotions, and put the bread in the toaster. I searched the cupboards of the industrial kitchen for my egg cups.  
"Look, I'll call the others and we'll all get lost. Have fun. But not too much fun. Ok? Ya know? I don't want to come in to work tomorrow and find out I'm working for. . . not you?" Smart girl.  
"Subtle, Cord, I will not have a moment of perfect happiness."  
"The others?"  
"Yes?"  
"What do I tell them?"  
"The truth. He's gonna be here for a while."  
"Weeks, months? What are we talking about?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Forever."- he said it. Not me. He wanted me home forever. He didn't know I was earwiging, it wasn't a ploy to bolster my self-esteem.  
"Angel," said Cordelia. "I hate to be totally tactless. . . well no I rather enjoy it sometimes. . . but-"  
"He has neither a soul nor a chip, but he won't hurt you."  
"Why are you so sure?" she asked with a shaky voice.  
"Because he was never evil." Well that's mean, mate, I'm the big bad maybe not Angelus but still. "He was just proving himself to and acting out against his father. It was never his nature."  
I decided now would be a good time to make an entrance. "Morn- Cordelia!" I said as though shocked to find her there. "I love the blonde hairdo!" Expecting he to leave quickly she instead smiled and gave me a hug. I guess she took Angel's words to heart.  
"It's nice to see you again, Spike. I was strangely saddened when Willow told me you died. And I don't know why as all we ever did was try to kill each other."  
"If I had been gunning for you, Cordelia, you'd be dead." I said honestly. The statement was met with a beaming grin.  
"Thanks. Ok, well I'm gonna go." She said picking up her purse and leaving.  
I suddenly felt guilty for always making fun of Angel's "pet humans" as I called them. Something in her flustered enthusiasm reminded me of Lil' Bit. Smirking as I rounded on Angel I said sullenly, "I didn't like waking alone."  
"You knew you would."  
"Doesn't mean I enjoyed the experience."  
"I'm sorry, baby." It wasn't exactly a term of endearment. It was a label like sire and childe. But I still smiled as I sat on the lone stool at the lone island. I watched him as he pealed soft boiled eggs with a knife. It was a skill that had taken him years to master.  
He had only tried as I was incapable with my fledgling coordination to eat a soft boiled egg without ingesting quite an amount of shell. For some reason the fact that he had learned the knack for me, and that he was still capable of doing it years later, touched me. I watching him silently as he buttered the toast, smeared it in marmite, and cut it into thin strips. And slowly it dawned on me.  
"You're weaning me?" I asked the shock apparent in my voice.  
I could see that he was uncomfortable with the sentimentality of the gesture as he shrugged and said. "Well you are my fledgling."  
  
"But that's the weird thing," I said, "I don't feel like a fledge. I'm too hungry, I'm too strong. Your stupid room is on the forth floor and the elevator made me claustrophobic so I got out at the third and I jumped off the balcony and I landed down here just fine. I wasn't hurt. That's not normal for a fledge, my bones shouldn't be that strong. And I'm so hungry and it's not "the thirst" of being turned. Plus I'm not tired, I am but it's not the mad lethargy of a fledge. So what is it? I'm kinda scared, Sire."  
His voice was soft as though the realization had just occurred to him or suddenly been proved. "They didn't bring you back as William."  
"Tell that to my pulse."  
"They brought you back as you with a pulse. When I turned you your blood tasted of Dru, and power, and me. So your demon's been there the whole time but it hasn't fed since you died." He said pouring me a glass of blood which I gulped down and he quickly refilled.  
"Do you think. . . " I started the question but couldn't bring myself to finish.  
"That you would have come back to me? Yes, you want family and comfort no matter what. Would you have wanted to be turned? I have no idea. But as it stands- do you care?"  
"Not as long as you're with me." I said honestly. "But then I never cared about anything if you were with me."  
He placed three egg cups in front of me and topped up my glass. And slowly he leaned over the island to kiss my fore head, "I'll never not be with you again. Don't worry. Ok?" I nodded and ate a soldier dipped in blood red egg yoke.  
The egg cups were over a hundred years old. Angel was eating one egg in a cup that read: S is for Sire. The three in front of me read: C is for Childe, L is for Liam, and W is for William. They were pastel colours: two blue two green. There had once been seven. But I had smashed Penn's out of spite. Darla's had shattered when she threw it at me and I ducked, it broke on contact with the wall. She beat me for that. And Drusilla's had gotten broken, I had tried to fix it but got disheartened and broke it further.  
"What do you think they're all doing?" I asked as I examined one of the egg cups.  
"I killed Darla, and I was present at Penn's death. I felt Dru pass; it was fast and violent. She must have loved it."  
I felt my mouth go completely dry. "I killed her."  
"What?" asked Angel slow and cold like while pulling away from me.  
I felt my nose start to run with unshed tears. "I chained them both up and told Buffy 'love me or Dru eats you,' she said I only had a chance with her when she was unconscious. I clearly wasn't going to let Drusilla eat Buffy, so I staked her." By now I was sobbing, I'm such a girly poof. "I thought Buffy would run to you. That you would drag me here, beat the shit out of me, pity me, and then love me." I looked up at him, he was totally appalled. "I never claimed to be a good man, Sire. I just claimed to be motivated by one."  
I started to pull away: make a quick retreat before he killed me. But Angel was faster and yet again grabbed my wrist while I would have fled. "I guess it's just you and me then. Well us and Zinnia." He said softly like I hadn't just put a metaphorical skate through his heart.  
We rarely mentioned Penn's wayward childe. To say she was the black sheep was like saying that WWII was a slight scuffle. She had no respect for the old ways, the vampiric lore. Never had she submitted to the fact that her elders were allowed, entitled, to rule her existence. Laughing at the lore she never obeyed or revered her sire. Though she paid dearly with beatings and humiliation she never resigned herself to her supposed fate, it never broke her. It was her own form of acting out, in life she'd been a suicidal, cutter whore. In death she was my goddess, Drusilla always hated her for it. I worshiped her much to the chagrin of Angelus, Darla, and Penn who in no way wanted her actions to be rewarded or revered. They liked the lores and traditions and rituals of course they did they were the ones how benefited. In the middle of the night she left us, scared and alone and finally breaking out of the violent system she loathed, the same one that I tried to prove to my sire that I could endure. The same one that deep down I still believed was right, was just. For what were we without our sires?  
I had no idea what Angel thought of her all soulful and whatnot. "I wonder what she's doing." I said thinking aloud rather than speaking.  
"She's living in a vampire commune in Seattle. They're all vegans, it's very cultyesque. They live off of synthesized blood supplements that have everything you need to live. She and her girlfriend Annie adopted a beautiful baby boy from China." He said pulling a picture of his wallet of the four of them together. "I check up on her. I liked to check up on all of you." His words caught in his throat. "Will, don't try to leave?" The "try" was what got me, if I had made to go would he stop me? "Past fouls don't matter. We've both fucked up so many times that let's stop trying to keep track. Please, Will, can we just be together? Let's just stop fighting over trivial things. I know we're good at petty grudges but can we just stop? You've fucked up, I've fucked up, and doubtless we both fuck up again."  
" So can we just fuck instead?" I made the joke mirthlessly knowing damn well we couldn't.  
He forged on as though he hadn't heard, "So can we just quit it- neither of us can win. Can we just be happy and love each other?"  
I nodded slightly and the pressure on my wrist eased. "Liam, why does this all have to be so hard?" I was the only childe, vampire, being that could still use his name. I don't even think Buffy knew his real name. Anyone who used it was quickly told that it was no his name than Angelus was.  
"I don't know, baby. I wish I could tell you that it would suddenly become easy, but after a hundred years you surely know that it would be a lie." He said as he rested his forehead against mine. The expression on his face was pained and tired. "Can you just kiss me now?"  
"I can do that." I said pulling him close over the island. 


	4. P is for Past

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: P is for Past (4/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- angst abounds and clearly, this is in fact slash.  
  
Description: Spike looks back to the past.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
HELP!!!: Gaelic does anyone speak it? I need some translations and don't speak it.  
  
FEEDBACK! It's appreciated and it makes me work faster! Pamatemybaby117@yahoo.com  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Liam spoke no English. No, actually, he spoke 527 words of the language. One was yes the other 526 were from assorted pick-up lines and jokes. He used his vast vocabulary to get girls, who didn't speak Gaelic, into bed.  
With the simple parroted words: "So I'd ask myself, what is a lady of your station doing alone in an alley with the reputation that this one has?" His whole life changed, it ended. When he rose Darla had been angered to learn the pretty boy spoke virtually no English. Within three months she'd beaten the language home into his brain. Behold the power of negative reinforcement. The words he knew before he still said in his wide Irish brogue the rest was in Darla's own American accent. She would not allow him to speak in his own tongue.  
Drusilla turned me and wandered off. I rose to the sound of his Gaelic mutterings about dealing with responsibilities, wayward childer, and sleeping in the bed one makes. Looking back I think he would have killed me were it not for my next actions. Without thinking I asked in Gaelic where I was, what had happened, and who the hell was he? A light had shone in his eyes that I have never seen again nor do I think I will ever see it again.  
For some odd, unexplained reason the rules of decorum never applied when we spoke in Gaelic. I looked him in the eye. I called him Liam. I could touch him unbidden. Hell, not to put too crass a point on it I could fuck him into the floor. But most importantly, he told me he loved me.  
When I was no longer William, when I was Spike things were strained. I would come in at five AM. Angelus sick with worry would submerge it with anger. He would ask where I'd been and I in my insolent state would tell him that he wasn't my sire and to fuck off. Only after he had beaten, and sometimes raped, me would I start to apologized in Gaelic. Then suddenly his eyes would fill with remorse and things settled down. I would tell him everything in the soft tongue: who I'd danced with and who I'd killed. The discussion ran to things as daily and asinine as what I had drank, where, and who was barkeeping.  
These conversations would start with him laying on the bed while I perched on the opposite edge. Over an hour or two I crept closer and closer until finally I was laying beside him. Somehow I had managed to enter his bed unbidden. He would listen and hold me until the wee hours before sunset. He would kiss me gently, so uncharacteristically softly, and me world was shattered. The first time he made love to me, instead of beating me into a state where I couldn't say no, I wept. This fact was something that, while speaking English, he taunted me for ruthlessly. The one thing that was never mentioned in English was that he cried too.  
And I thought of all of this while kissing him in an empty kitchen. I must have wandered off as the sudden pain was a shock when Angel bite my tongue with blunt teeth. I laughed into his mouth.  
"You're not paying any attention. Are you?" he said mock sullenly. He ran his finger through my hair and grimaced "How did you get so dirty?"  
"Hey! You're the one who's always into chains." I said trying to evade the question; he raised an eyebrow. "I climbed out of a grave that I haven't been interred in in over a hundred years, while trying to breath and bleeding red blood. Then I got the first boat I found and came home. Bathing wasn't high on my list of priorities."  
"How long were you up before coming here?" asked Angel doing that patented look of worry and horror.  
"Six days."  
"Did you eat?"  
"Yes!" I said trying to feign that I was horrified at his charge that I might not have. If he tweaked that bloody eyebrow again I was going to be forced to kill him. "A bowl of porridge and a bloomin' onion both of which I threw up and thus gave up on food."  
"Jesus, how can you consider that to be taking care of yourself!?"  
"I don't. That's why I came to you." I said suddenly finding my shoes endlessly interesting.  
"Will," he said and trailed off not knowing what to say. Finally he sighed. "Let's get you into a nice hot bath." He took me by the arm like, you would with an invalid. The gesture made me laugh at the same time as it made me see red. To prove how frail I was not I threw him against the island, which shook with the force, and gave him a through necking. Between unneeded gasps he told me he loved me. . . in English. 


	5. A is for Angst

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: A is for Angst (5/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- angst abounds and clearly, this is in fact slash. I'm making Angel to be slightly horndog-esque but I needed to show that Spike was concerned for his Sire. Moreover I think this is the last whiny chapter for a bit.  
  
Description: Bath time!. . . not too dirty, well dirty yes Spike climbed out of his own grave remember. But dirrty no. . . I don't write NC17  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
HELP!!!: Gaelic does anyone speak it? I need some translations and don't speak it.  
  
FEEDBACK! It's appreciated and it makes me work faster! Pamatemybaby117@yahoo.com  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was only as Angel stripped me that I realized just how wounded, dirty, and thin I was. My other realization was that I was as hard as a rock and had been since Angel had reopened the bond. Hands fluttered down my body to remedy the problem. Grabbing his hands I stopped them in their path. I felt him sigh as he raked his tongue across the roof of my mouth.  
For a moment he paused and then he wrenched his hands free and continued their journey. Resolutely I caught them and held them surely on my hips. He pulled away from me. "I'm sorry." I said softly as I watched him test the bath water temperature. "We can't go much further and I like where we are. Any further and we'll both get hurt." I am such a whiny little bitch when it comes to this man. He is my Sire in both name and deed now. He turned me. Oh god, I love him.  
"You don't have to worry about my soul." He said with a soft laugh and a smile that scared me. It was pure Angelus. He was either going to prove what a silly childe I am or tear me in half with his next words.  
"Well someone has to as you clearly won't." I said as he stood up.  
"I thought you would have known from the bond. . . I won't lose it."  
"What is it affixed now?" I said sarcastically. "Are you like Peter Pan? Did you sow it on or does it stick with soap?"  
"I won't have a "perfect moment of happiness" with you."  
A stake could have done no more damage than those words. What am I to him? A bit of bloody ass, for Christ's sakes? "So what, are you tantric now or do I just not make you happy?" All thoughts of lust gone from my body and mind. I started to walk out of the suddenly tiny bathroom. Angel made to grab my arm but I swerved out of his reach. "Don't try to get me, Angel, you don't want me anyway." I knew I sounded like a petulant childe, I bloody well knew I was being sullen. Yet I couldn't bring myself to change my tone. Though I knew he loved me I was still hurt and confused.  
He sighed and I could almost hear his eyes rolling in his skull. For a moment he paused to turn off the taps. Following me he made to seize my hips. Angrily I turned back to him. "Why can't you talk to me without having to physically dominate me? For just one minute forget that I'm your childe and speak to me as a person! Why is your soul so safe with me? Just speak to me!"  
"Because I' love you so much and I've done so many horribly, wickedly, cruel things to you. I can never forgive myself. And no matter how happy I am some part of me would be so afraid of hurting you again that it would stop me from ever having that "moment".I love you too fucking much. It wouldn't work with anyone but you. I have never nor will I ever love anyone as deeply as I love you."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He smiled. It wasn't his smirk or sneer, it was his rarely seen, beautiful smile. Was it possible for my unbeating heart to stop in my chest? "Not even?" he asked and then stopped, ashamed for asking. Ashamed for caring?  
"Buffy is a silly little girl that I had an odd almost fatherly thing for. You're my soul mate."  
His face ashened. "I don't have a soul." He said in a child like whisper.  
"Do you want it?" I asked. "He looked up at me with that helpless look in his eyes. "Don't give me that face the, "make the decision for me because I' afraid to make a mistake and lose you," face. I'm not going to leave you, Spike, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that this is permanent before you get it. No matter what you say I'll still be here, loving you. There is no wrong answer." I fucked over his sense self-worth back in the good old days.  
"Fighting for that was the most painful and scary thing I ever did. I'm so scared to do that again." He said looking haunted.  
"You wouldn't have to go through that again. I could go and "talk" to the demon. He entered the contract and so has the duty to ensure that it's there if you want it."  
"It hurt so bad. Afterwards I went mad. I don't understand how you do it. I don't know how your knees don't buckle under the weight, and I don't mean figuratively it felt like I had a physical weight around my neck. And I felt like I was burning. I didn't feel less evil or. . . whatever I thought I would some sense of grief and righteousness. All I felt was ill."  
"That's because you were never evil. You did what you needed to do."  
"And it's weird, because in many ways the chip did more to change me than my soul. Now I don't aquate people with food. I see people. When I saw Cordelia I saw her and not her neck. And it's the same with people I don't know." I know my mouth was gapping I do see the neck, not with Cordy but certainly with the random bodies that pass by. "I don't want my soul- it never made me a better man."  
"Then don't have it." I said simply. I reached out to touch his face but stopped not wanting to "physically dominate" him. He smiled and took the hand in his own. "Commo, let's get you in the bath and get you cleaned up." The fucking doorbell rang, I sighed heavily. "Go ahead. I'll be there in two minutes." I turned to go then turned back and kissed him harshly. "I love you." 


	6. B is for Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: B is for Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia (6/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash. V. little angst this chapter.  
  
Description: Bath time!. . . not too dirty, well dirty yes Spike climbed out of his own grave remember. But dirrty no. . . I don't write NC17  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Rich from Narberth Pottery in Wales is a real man who makes beautiful things. If you ever go to the Pembroke area check him out. It's really fucking expensive but it's gorgeous. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
FEEDBACK! It's appreciated and it makes me work faster! Pamatemybaby117@yahoo.com  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
I jumped down the stairs three at a time, desperate to get back to Spike. There at the door was someone I had no desire to see. "Buffy," I said as I opened the door, "What can I do for you?"  
She fidgeted while holding a sealed cardboard box. "Angel, I have some bad news, you should sit."  
"I'd rather stand." I said coldly while lounging in the doorway so she could not enter.  
"There is no easy way to say this." She said squirming in her fancy boots.  
But I cut her off. "Then just say it."  
"Spike. . . he died in the battle."  
"A month ago?" she nodded. "And your only telling me now?"  
"I was grieving!" she said indignantly.  
"How wonderful for you." I said with no emotion at all.  
"I brought you the thing he left at my house. I thought you might like them." She said holding the box like an olive sprig.  
I made no more to take it. "There's a prophecy wherein a vampire with a soul comes back as a human after fighting by a slayer in the apocalypse. I had to find out my son had died from my own son."  
"He's human?" she asked with the same hope I had seen in her when I had been human for a day.  
She was happy that her boyfriend was human. I could see she was planning the wedding and the children right before my eyes. Though I knew it was cruel I was glad that her happiness was about to be dashed. Bastard, yep you can call me that. None the less, I was thrilled. Callously the girl had left me in the dark for a whole fucking month. So while it was wicked I was also thrilled. All the love I had once felt for her had faded over time into fondness. It had later become a tolerance for each other. Now I felt nothing but a dull loathing for her.  
I heard Spike on the stairs behind me. The anger seeping off of me must have called to him. He placed a soothing hand on my arm. And he had yet to acknowledge Buffy's presence. Smelling of soap, his closeness did calm me. Buffy dropped the box and punched me in the face. " You *turned* him, you bastard!" she screamed.  
"He didn't turn me." Lied Spike quietly. "It was just some guy."  
I picked up the box and walked away hoping to avoid Buffy's rage and bitching. They talked of Dawn, and Buffy said they were living at the new Hellmouth in Arizona. She asked him to go "home". He said no. While they were discussing him visiting, Wesley walked in.  
Completely pale he walked past the pair and directly to me. "You have the day off." I said.  
"Cordelia told me everything. I feel awful. I gave you hope for your humanity."  
"Wes, don't feel badly. I would rather have Spike home than need to breath any day." Buffy paused in her speech and made a hasty exit.  
Wesley smiled broadly. Taking leave from his senses he hugged Spike. Then seemed to come to his senses, pulled a face, straightened Spikes lapels and said, "I'm so glad. Ok, now, goodbye. I'm going to the occult bookstore on Sunset." He said and practically flew out the door.  
I turned to Will who was now going through the box. "Why did Buffy leave?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sometimes soulboy could be an insensate moron. "You said you loved me over her."  
"I did?" he asked: the picture of confusion.  
"You said you'd rather have me home than be human. Human would lead to Buffy's bed in her mind. Therefore you chose me over her."  
"I hope she hurts. I hope it burns. I hope she cries all the way back to Arizona!" He said with ever increasing glee. It was nice to see such enthusiasm in my sire.  
"Don't be bitter." I said with a laugh. "You've got me. She has no one. She's an idiot girl: she didn't mean to hurt you."  
"What's in the box?" he asked slipping an arm around my waist. Standing behind me he hooked his chin over my shoulder.  
I pulled each thing out and displayed my few positions proudly. "Clothes, jacket, car keys, bracelet, railroad spike, magic wand (thought I lost that), Sid Vicious action figure, an old picture of me and you, brace knuckle dusters, cd's, reading glasses, Zippo, the stone bust from my crypt, and. . . oh yeah, this is for you." I said handing him a small wrapped box.  
He opened it with a gasp. "Damn, Will. Is this 7th century Japanese?" he asked of the small dish.  
I bust out laughing. "You always have to make things harder than they are! Simon Rich from Narberth Pottery in Wales made it circa four months ago. You are such a prat sometimes."  
"But the way the glaze puddles at the bottom-"  
"Is achieved by not putting a hole in the for the excess to drain from. It's nothing amazingly special. I just thought you might like it."  
"I love it's beautiful."  
"After the fight I planned on coming to see you. I wanted to get things more sorted. It was meant to be a peace offering." I smiled then. "If I'd known that all I had to do was die and be reborn I never would have bothered with the dish."  
"You are so mean with your money."  
"Well it allows me to be generous with my affection. I *adore* you." I said while rolling my eyes at the poncy turn of phrase.  
He smirked. "Adoration is such an archaic word. He said as we walked up the stairs to his room. I was holding my wand and giving experimental flicks it sent out multicoloured sparks. "Come to bed with me?" he asked clearly fearful I would decline.  
I nodded slightly without saying anything. The smile that met my nod was worth all the pain of so many lost years. 


	7. H is for Happiness

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: H is for Happiness (7/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash. V. little angst this chapter. Disclaimer: I don't known Jack. I do however own Jack's brother Dave. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
Note: I'm sorry this took me so long! I've been so caught up with other things! I hate real life. I know it's short. But hey, at least it's a nice chapter of pillow talk, right?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Much later that day he lay, still shaking, in my arms. Kissing his temple I pulled him closer. "You ok?" I asked.  
"Wonderful."  
"You're trembling."  
"I'm happy." He said as if challenging me to disagree or press the point.  
"I love you."  
He smirked and said, "I know." We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Running his fingers down my chest he smiled. His hand paused as it traced a tattoo on my hip. Light burned in his eyes. "You still have it," he said. His voice was filled with wonderment. Suddenly his smirk reappeared. "How ever did you explain this to Buffy? Didn't she wonder why you have "Will's" written on your hip?"  
"She never asked and I never offered the information. I'm sure she knew: she's a bright little thing."  
Another bout of peace swept over the room as I drew protective runes over his back with my fingers. Spike started to purr, I think he didn't realize it and I purred in reply. Snuggling closer he said, "I don't want to wake up alone."  
"You won't." I promised feeling slightly sick that a promise was needed.  
"Promise?"  
Sometimes the boy could read my mind, "Of course."  
"If the goodie two shoes' brigade comes to fight some evil you'll wake me?" I nodded. "If you think to cook me breakfast you won't?" I nodded. "If you go evil?"  
"I'll bite you to let you know." I said.  
He smiled, that fucking dazzling smile. I wish his fears were unfounded. When I had been ensouled I had left him asleep in bed. Upon waking alone he had found his whole world dashed. For the world I would not do that to him again.  
Cuddling still closer to me his eyelids drooped. He sighed heavily as he fell into sleep. Though unconscious he continued to purr and I held him tightly. His fingers of his right hand trailed down my shoulder while his left thumb found his mouth. Around his thumb he muttered, "Back off, bitch." While, of course, I couldn't know for sure what he was talking about I would have put money on the fact that it was directed to a blonde. As I kissed his forehead he seemed to soothe. "He's mine, so step off." A laugh escaped from my lips, I couldn't help it. Opening his eyes he said, "You are."  
And then it was my turn to say, "I know."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Just as the sunset I awoke. Angel was laying on top of me, squishing the unneeded breath out of my body. Purrs filled the room but at first I couldn't figure out from whence they came. It was only after a few minutes that I realized they were coming from him and me and not a hidden cat. A spectrum of emotions filled his face as he slept. Buffy once said that he never displayed his sentiment. While it may have been true for her he had never been that way with me. He wore his heart on his sleeve and whatever he thought, he said. Angel never protected me from himself. I knew him too bloody well for him to keep anything from me. There was too much history between us; I knew where he lived. He had beaten, hurt me, and loved me in a warped fashion since the day I was borne, he couldn't play the tragic hero with me, and he didn't try. He didn't walk about putting on the airs of amazing grievance, he could cope with his mistakes and there was no need to prove to me that he was hurting. I could feel his pain in his soul. But that pain didn't stop him from having fun, and loving, and being happy: it just put it in perspective.  
As he smiled his lopsided open smile I kissed him. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled into my mouth, "What a great way to wakeup." I bit his lip. "Ouch! You bast-"  
"For once shut-up. Just stop talking and pay attention to the task at hand," I said and he rolled his eyes as he pulled me up to him. After about twenty minutes I pulled back from him, behold the joys of not needing oxygen. Pushing him away with one hand I whined, "I'm hungry." He nodded and commenced in kissing me. "I'm hungry for blood, not you, Sire."  
"Ok. . . so what do you want me to do about it?" he asked looking genuinely confused.  
"You have to get off me so I can get up."  
"Well what if I get you up to get you off."  
"No."  
"Well what if I just don't want to?"  
"Then I'll bite you."  
"Is that a promise?" he asked is a voice that, had anyone else used I would have laughed. As it was, I felt my knees go weak (thank gods I was laying down) and my mouth went dry.  
"It's a promise." I said as I vamped out and reclaimed his lips. My bared fangs scraped his lips. Warm blood flowed into my mouth.  
Groaning softly he pulled he painfully close before pushing himself away. He held himself up on his arms above me. "Fine, go, see if I care." He said looking down at me. Blood dripped from his lip onto my chest. Bending down he licked it off it little catlike laps. A gasp escaped from my person unbidden. "Go," he said again.  
"No, now I don't wanta go. Jus' want you."  
He stood up and reached out to me. As I took his hand he smiled widely. "Let's go get you something to eat."  
"I have everything I want to eat right here."  
"Blood and a cuppa now, mind-blowing oral sex later. Ok?"  
"You had me sold at cuppa." I said and stood. "Pants?"  
"Yeah, you never know who might walk in." he said, throwing sweats at me.  
"Pro'bly give 'em a thrill." I said cocking an eyebrow. Angel laughed an all out bono fide laugh I had heard since he regained his soul. I knew I was crying. But I didn't bloody care. 


	8. F is for Family

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: F is for Family (8/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash. Some angst this chapter. '  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack. I do however own Jack's brother Dave. . . I bought Pop-Tarts from a vending machine today, so yes, I own Pop-Tarts. I don't own Early One Morning, I do have it on cd, though. But EOM is a folk song. . . so no one owns it. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also in my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel had gone to wash his poncy hair. The offer to join him had been extended to me. I declined knowing damn well that a shower with him meant a shower. It would be good clean fun. Boring bastard.  
While I waited for my Pop-Tarts to pop I considered sitting. Wisely I decided sitting would be far too painful to counteract my tired feet. A young man walked in and pulled a juice box out of the fridge without addressing me. When he finally turned to me he said, "So who the hell are you?"  
"Who the fuck are *you*?" I said in a bored voice, "Look, Angel's given you all the day off. Go home."  
"I am home. Angel's my father."  
"Bullshit. Get out before I make you get out." I said my voice filled with cold anger. The boy wasn't human but I couldn't figure out what he was.  
"Why don't you think I'm his son?" he asked looking bewildered.  
I couldn't help but laugh. "Do your research, child, I don't believe you for two reasons. One, Because I *am* his son. And two he's a vampire while you're. . . not."  
"You're his son?"  
"His childe. Now again I ask: who the hell are you?"  
"The law firm Wolfram and Hart brought my mother, Darla, back to unlife. She seduced Dad in his sleep and nine months later I was born and she was dead. . . er. You're Spike right? I'm Conner."  
"Bullshit," I repeated. My Pop-Tarts popped and grabbing them I proceeded to run up four flights of stairs. Wrenching open the shower door I said, "You won't lose yer because ya love me too much?" Wet Angel nodded, the perfect picture of confusion. "So then how in bloody hell is there a whelp down there claiming to be your and Darla's son? If that's true why do you still have your fecking soul?"  
"It was a spell, I was under a sleeping/seduction spell," he said softly.  
I shook my head slowly and slammed the door so hard that the glass shattered. Dazed he stood watching me with his mouth open. I shook my head again and threw one of my Pop-Tarts at him. The gesture made me laugh through my tears and quaking. "You bastard," I whispered and marched off. Looking back I screamed, "Lying bastard!" I bump into the boy. "Out of the way, Little Brother," I said softly while trying not to misplace my anger. And then I kissed his forehead. "It's nice that you don't look like your mother," I said puling him into a hug. Then I marched into Angel's bedroom and slammed the door behind me.  
Quietly the door opened and shut. Angel crawled behind me. I didn't look at him. I just cried. I am such a little queen. "I'm sorry, baby," he said softly, "I didn't even think. It was a spell, a bad spell. But I can't regret it and wish it didn't happen. Outside of finding you, Conner is the best thing that ever happened to me.  
"Why is he so old?" I asked with a harsh sniff, while scrubbing my eyes. When the hell was I going to get a rein on my emotions? Why had dieing caused me to become such a woss?  
"Remember Holtz? That puritan who's family we slaughtered? He had himself frozen in time to seek revenge and he stole Conner from the office and brought him to a hell dimension for the equivalent of fifteen years. It was about a week of our time. Then we found a portal in and got him back. I killed Holtz, that bastard stole my baby. He's only been home for six months. So much time has been lost. He's the only person I've failed half as much as I've failed you."  
"Oh, Lee, I'm sorry, but I can fix this. There's a spell. He'll be sent back in time to the hour after he was babynapped and when he gets as old as he is now, his regain his memories of Holtz."  
"Yeah?" he asked with a light in his eyes. "He's so *so* hurt that I lost that time. He wouldn't stop crying for a week after he came home. He wanted a childhood."  
"I can give him that." I said feeling more confidant than I had in years. I had always been so good at spells, especially cut and dry ones like this. I have never had much self-discipline when it came to sitting still over texts for hours on end, I had done too much of that in life to continue in my death. For instance, Buffy was really shocked to learn I could read. Now as it is, I like reading I just never get a chance to sit down quietly without getting the itch to do something else.  
"Can we go talk to him?" asked Angel somewhat nervously.  
"Of course. Commo, let's go find Little Brother."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
"You can do that?" he asked, looking happier than he had in all the months since he'd been home. Spike nodded at the boy, he looked so thrilled to be helping. "Do I have to get the memories back? I really don't want to remember."  
I couldn't answer, I felt my throat close at the words falling out of my human *child's* mouth. Spike sighed as he pushed the hair out of Conner's face. "You might be more philosophical once you get some happy memories to offset the bad ones."  
"I'm too old to be fifteen," he said with an edge of anger.  
"If it's all too much to handle when you get them back, I have an agate stone that would let us wipe them away. Ok?"  
Conner nodded and then lunged forward to give Spike a tight hug. "Thank you for this."  
"It's nothin, Little Brother. Don't worry about it. We're going to get this sorted. Say hello to the joys of family. Dad got you back and now I'll fix this. It's just my flamboyant way of making an introduction."  
I smiled at my two boys. It was like a dream. They were sitting together and talking Conner with his head resting on his knees and Spike fidgeting as always. I watched as Spike ran his fingers through Conner's hair.  
An hour and a half later I was holding my baby son in my arms again. Spike looked over my shoulder. Smiling he said, "Cute little bugger. I think he's gonna be happy here. It's a bleeding shame you destroyed the Gem of Amara."  
"Yeah, I *destroyed* it," I said sarcastically and pulled it out of my back pocket. "I just had to make everyone else and you think it was gone. You would have ended up hurting yourself with it as I wouldn't have been there to slap your wrist every now and then."  
Staring at it he swallowed hard. "You can take the baby out."  
"Yes, *we* can."  
"What?"  
"I can split it in half. . . well I can't, but a jeweler can. I had Wesley look it up ad infinitum: it'll still work."  
"Really?"  
"Yes, Will."  
"Wow. So I guess we're a family."  
"We always were, we were just spread out. Now it's just the way it should have been. I have my childe and my son all back in place. Christ, I'm amazing I still have my soul." We laughed. He handed me the gem and I gave the baby over to him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile at himself. "What?" I asked.  
"I think I might actually love the little blighter."  
"Yeah," I said sighing, "he does that. I can't believe you did this. It's amazing. I don't know how to thank you."  
"You don't have to. I didn't do this for you, Sire. I did it for a sad little boy."  
"He hated me at first. For failing to protect him, he hated me."  
"Liam, I'm so sorry, luv."  
"We're gonna make it up to him though. . . right?"  
"Of course, it's all sunny days and picnics from here on out. And then in 15 years and 37 days he'll get all of his memories back and make a good guest at a diner party," said Spike deftly holding the baby in one arm while putting Pop-Tarts into the toaster and turning on the Kettle. Smiling he looked down at Conner as he started to sing, "Early one morning just as the sun was rising, I came upon a young man in the valley below. 'Oh don't deceive me oh never leave me.' How could Holtz use a poor baby so?" 


	9. D is for Domestic

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: D is For Domestic (9/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Notes: this goes through Spike's POV's twice. ALSO ta= thank you, cuppa=cup of tea, tosser: jerk off, wanker, ta-tas= a walk generally (not always) with a small child . I think that's all the English slang I got questioned about. Baby Spike the Cow is in a radio soap show, on BBC Radio 4, called The Archers. She was Ed Grundy's but then he gave her to his grandfather, who gave it to Ed's younger brother William, much to Ed's chagrin.  
  
Spoilers: for end of Buffy and speculation as to next season of Angel.  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Turkey Terrific belongs to the sandwich shop in the main square on Nantucket Island. This goes outside of Cannon as Crush ended differently in my mind he did stake Dru. Also In my world Cordy and Conner never slept together, so the evil never manifested as Jasmine, therefore Wolfram and Hart never gave Angel the business, Lilah never died, and Cordy isn't in a coma. Any other changes are explained directly in the text.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Morning came far too soon. It seemed I could not fight the Great God Dawn. Time moves like a river that can be forged but never stopped, not even by an ageless demons. Sorry, I'm waxing non-poetically like William. Cordelia came in totting doughnuts which were promptly dropped upon seeing the baby. I have no idea how she knew it was Conner: she just did.  
"My baby!" she said as she swooped him out of my arms, "how?"  
"Spike knew a spell," said Angel, way to drop me in it, Sire. But I saw pride in his eyes and thus said nothing.  
"Why?" asked a little, timid, slip of a girl as she walked into the room.  
I smiled ruefully, "Drusilla wanted a second childhood. I *tried* to explain to her that she was undead and therefore could not change her age. I had to rent "Interview with a Vampire" to convince her." I shuddered at the memory, "'cause the lit'le girl can't change her hair."  
"Oh," she said with a slight bop, "I'm Fred by the way. I've heard so much about you!"  
What a happy little thing. Wesley walked in and made to make a formal introduction. "You're Wesley the Watcher Dog. You have quite a reputation in Sunnydale."  
"As a coward?" he asked bitterly.  
"As well meaning but overzealous. It's nice to put a face to the name. I'm sure you'll prove Fluffy and her cronies wrong: they generally are." I shrugged and nodded as if to say: well that's the way the bone crumbles.  
"It's nice to meet you too." He visibly brightened at my words. He was nothing like I expected: he wasn't a loser. A man apparently named Gunn walked in, waved and told Fred they were going to breakfast, and left again. Something about his indirect-directness made me instantly like him. They were a very accepting group in that no one tried to stake me, unlike the Scoobies. I felt somehow welcome. "Cor," I said addressing the cheerleader, "commo upstairs, let's give Conner a bath; you can teach me. We'll leave the boys to deal with the customers." I said kissing Angel's cheek, "Have fun saving the world."  
We took the elevator to the fourth floor. On one side of Angel's room was Conner's room that the boy and Cordy had decorated six months ago. On the other side was his nursery that had only been decked out eight months ago. In the nursery's bathroom the Babybather Seat still sat in the tub. Cordelia saw me staring.  
"He was heart broken," she said softly. Her tone underscored her own pain, "Angel didn't want anything moved. He thought if things were changed then Conner wouldn't get home. He cursed himself for painting the room green, he said the fay people had taken him. You have no idea what you've given him." I just shrugged, "You really love him don't you? Angel not Conner. Well clearly you love Conner, how could you not love this baby?" she asked in a baby voice, kissing his forehead, and turning on the taps.  
"He's a beautiful, bonny, happy boy. Conner, not Angel. And yeah, I love Angel. With all my soulless being, I love him. Why?" I asked taking the baby from her as she poured baby bath into the water.  
"You're with him, right? I mean, clearly I can tell: I'm his best friend. So how can you be with him with the lose of his soul?" she asked sounding repentant for prying. The girl had grown up since high school.  
"You're a good friend, Cordelia. I can tell. It's great that you care. I'm glad to know that you were here taking care of him when I wasn't. Now as to how his soul remains. . . it's complicated. Ya see no matter how happy I can make him he is still miserable and there is nothing that will stop that."  
"Is there anything I can do?"  
I shook my head slowly. "No, just be there for him. He loves you, Cor," I said watching her as she sat the baby in the plastic chair. "You're good at this mum-ish stuff."  
"Not as good as Angel once he gets into his element. And you'll get really good. I've been watching you with the baby." She nodded slightly as if conceding to a point, "You're a natural."  
A blush would have covered my face had I been alive, "My father was a doctor, I always loved it when he delivered babies. I always wanted one. . . or five, of my own."  
Laughing the girl said, "Five? Believe me you, Conner when in a mood is harder to handle than five kids. But hell, you wanted one, you've landed yourself one." We both laughed as Conner splashed and then looked shocked when his face got wet.  
"Come on, Conner Wonner Moony Toony," I said as I pulled him out of the bath into a fluffy towel with a hood, I could tell Angel bought it: it was so poofy. Cordelia gave me a look. "What? My sisters were Lily Louly Girly Twirly and Olivia was just Olive. My brother was Christopher Wistopher Woozy Boy Boy. Conner needs a pet name."  
"And what was yours?"  
"Nothing rhymes with William so I was just Liam."  
"That's Angel's name!!"  
"Yeah, funny that." I said with a shrug as I dressed the baby, "Commo, Moony, let's get you a bockle-doo, maybe some nice warm milk will help you sleep."  
"And so the nickname is born." The beauty queen laughed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
ADHD would be defined as anything pertaining to my childe's actions. Deftly he bounced down the stairs while carrying the baby in one arm. "Moony, say hello to daddy." The baby said nothing and Spike shrugged. "Was worth a try." He shook the bottle he was holding in his other hand.  
"Moony?" I asked.  
He simply shrugged again and rolled his eyes. "You know my name on theory on nicknames, 'Gelus."  
"Babies die if not held and they don't feel loved without a epithet. So what is it Conner Fonner Moony Roony?" I hazarded a guess.  
"No, you dolt, nothing that dorky. Conner Wonner Moony Toony," he said and shook my head slowly, my childe was such a. . . child. "Can I take him out? Please? Do you mind?" He started to jump up and down, he reminded me so much of who he'd been when just turned. "I thought we'd hit the park, look at ducks, he'd sleep, and I'd pick up chicks. The usual, nothing special. Ya know, except for the whole vampire in sun light going ta-tas with the baby of two vampires."  
I smiled indulgently, "Have fun, don't cause trouble, no chicks." I threw him the ring.  
Wes made a face. For a horrible moment I thought he was going to object and say something. The fact was if he said something mean Spike would act like it didn't matter but it would hurt him. From what he said about his days in Sunnydale he had been badly mistreated by the humans and came away feeling like a tosser. I breathed a pointless sigh of relief when the man said, "Wait! There is this deli on the corner. Can I put in an order?" I was so relieved.  
"Sure."  
"They make this absolutely disgusting, messy, delicious sandwich with coleslaw and turkey."  
"A'right. Anyone else?"  
"Oh! I want a Turkey Terrific, but without mayonnaise." Cordelia smiled brightly.  
"Yer gonna make the Big Bad order somethin' called Turkey Terrific?" He pronounced the name with an American drawl. "You owe me, princess." He turned back to me, "We'll be home in an hour."  
"That's it?" I asked incredulously. He was planning on going to the park, seeing the ducks, and getting food in an hour? ADHD.  
He nodded, "Maybe an hour and a half." He placed Moony in his carriage. Kissing my cheek again he pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. "Ta, love," he said with a smirk and left pushing the carriage and singing a new verse of Early One Morning, loudly.  
Me boy came home two hours later and instantly handed the baby to me. "Cup o' tea? Cup o' tea?" he asked looking 'round. Gunn and Fred shook their heads while Cordy held up three fingers to show she wanted three sugars but could not talk through her mouthful of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and wry bread. "A sweet for my sweet," he responded. "Wesley?" Wes paused. "Go on," egged Spike. "You aren't putting me to any trouble."  
"Go on then," conceded Wesley. It was the most English discourse even to be had in the hotel. "Ta. No sugar and a splash of milk, please."  
"Angel, sugar and a half?"  
"As always." I laughed looking up from the baby to smile at my boy.  
Ten minutes later he was back with a tray. "Black," he said handing the cup to Wesley. "You, me," he placed ours on the counter. "Baby style for Delia and a bottle for Moon."  
"You can't give a baby tea!" Cordy said indignantly.  
"Of course you can!" replied Spike and I in unison.  
"Maybe in your day you could but not now. It's totally archaic!"  
"Like adoration," muttered Spike sitting beside me.  
"It's not archaic. It's English, and it's perfectly acceptable. Everyone does it. It's warm, sweet, and comforting. My mum did it!" said Wes as tough that alone would clinch the argument.  
"You guys are so weird!" she said. Note that she says this because we give tea to a baby *not* because we work for the PTB or that we subsist on blood. "If I didn't have the visions and Conner keeping me here I would totally have *way* cooler friends." We all laughed and drank tea as we did the filing that had piled up around the office.  
I leant over and kissed Spike's forehead as I handed him the baby and focused on my cuppa. Caffeine would perk me up, I was dead on my feet. . . well I'm always dead on my feet but now I was tired too.  
Conner drank him tea and then fell back to sleep in Spike's lap. When sucking his thumb didn't satisfy, he pulled Spike's thumb into his mouth. Both the girls gasped and reacted in assorted, girly ways. Smiling I said in Gaelic, "You have competition for your own thumb." He smiled sheepishly at me acknowledging that, yes, William the Bloody did still suck his thumb.  
"It's ok," he said in Gaelic, "he can have my right hand. I'm left handed don't forget."  
"I remember eating the sword smith who made you your left-handed sword." I said with a small smile. Things had been so simple back then. In some ways I wished I could go back to that blissful ignorance but then I wouldn't be sitting with my son and childe. Having a soul is weird, it doesn't stop me from wanting all those nights of bloodshed, it just makes me fell badly about wanting them.  
  
"His blood had far too much iron." We both laughed at the pathetic joke.  
"Am I goin' mad or are they talkin' foreign?"  
"It's Gaelic, Irish some call it," replied Wes. "I know just enough to know that I have no desire to understand what is being said. Moreover I think I shall be wearing turtle necks for the next few weeks."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Everyone laughed again. It was nice, odd. Never had there been this much pointless laughter. And I had yet to get even a sideways look from any of Angel's humans. Here I was apparently accepted into the group without having to prove anything. Somewhere in the back of my head a voice said, "You're happy with them feeling safe around you? You're a soulless, chipless demon. Act like it. Break Cordelia's neck, you like her but she's a better meal than a conversationalist. They're cattle, you can name a cow Baby Spice but you still slaughter it." But then Angel smiled at me and I felt the voice suddenly say in a petulant, "I still think you should kill her. . . god, look at him when he's not miserable. I should write some poetry, OH FUCK, I did not just say that. Bugger off!"  
The baby sucking my thumb bit down hard and sucked the blood from my wound. "Like father, like son," I muttered. No one save Angel heard me. He smiled. 


	10. W is for Wizard part a

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: W is for Wizard (10a/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Fandom: For the next few chapters with is a cross over with HP but if you don't read Harry Potter you can still read easily especially as I've rewritten most of the characters anyway as sort of a joke. You'll see.  
  
Spoilers: Non really, as this is AU of Angel this season. Spoilers for OotP (the last HP book)  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Harry Potter does not belong to me either.  
  
Archiving- the rest is here:  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was sitting on the floor with his back against an armchair. The way he was positioned suggested that he had slipped off the chair to his current pose. Just as I was about to ask what he was doing he looked up at me with tears in his eyes.  
  
Answering my unasked question Angel said softly with desperation, "Sirius Black? The only thing crueler would have been Neville!" He sobbed with his statement.  
  
I couldn't help but smile as I sank down to my knees in front of him, "Oh, honey," I said, "it's only pretend. Angel, I know it's sad but I bet she brings him back in the next book. I bet that portal led to Nebraska where he's convalescing and then he'll come home. I spoke to the *real* Sirius a few days ago, he wrote me a letter while very drunk."  
  
He rested his head on my chest and wept, "It's just so sad! Harry never gets a break."  
  
"Harry's a fictional character, love." Angel the stone faced, cold-blooded vampires was crying over a fictional child. "Hey! I have an idea! Let's write a threatening letter: it'll be fun."  
  
"I just hate how she uses real people ya know? I mean yes, the kids are fictional but I mean: she wrote Dumbledore crying!" his voice broke, "Can you imagine?"  
  
"She had permission, Liam. From all I've heard Joanne seems like a nice girl."  
  
"And it's almost frightening. It makes you think: what if another dark wizard rose?"  
  
"There hasn't bee a dark wizard since Hitler and Dumbledore fixed him in the end. Anyway, he liked vampires, he never touched us even though we're mudbloods."  
  
"What do you thing he would do with anomalies like us? What do you think he would think of Conner? You and I have made a lot of enemies. How long would we last? We're world-famous turncoats."  
  
"We would go to Dumbledore; he's always helped us in the past. Christ, he even let me attend Hogwarts. Minerva and he went out on a real limb for me."  
  
"Yes but you made them look good." Angel sounded sullen as he sniffed. Spike knew Angel didn't really like Dumbledore. "You got O's on all your OWLs and you got eleven NEWTs. That's practically unheard of."  
  
I couldn't help but smile at his praise. "I had the best academic of any student ever. It was weird I always thought I should have been in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I was smart and ambitious."  
  
"You were also true hearted and loyal." Angel pulled me into his lap and I just smiled. And he said *I* was the tactile one.  
  
"I don't like the way she makes us Hufflepuffs look thick. . . I miss Dumbledore, I haven't spoken to him in a long time. He is the most astounding man I ever met. He let me in solely on the promise that I would never use magic to harm anyone. He trusted me to keep my word: a soulless vampires." I laughed at a memory, "I made Willow make me a love spell to try and woo Dru back. I didn't want to do it meself in case Albus decided it broke our pact. He let a 70 year old vampire into his school."  
  
"You helped him a lot; he never regretted accepting you. He saw potential. Do you really think he'd help us?"  
  
"Tell you what," I said comforting him like I would talk to Dawny when she had nightmares, "We'll write a disgruntled letter to Joanne and then go have us a talk with Albus."  
  
"And how are we to do that?"  
  
I smirked thinking of my walk with Moon that morning, "Ya know the sandwich run? And ya know how I got the gem of amara cut into two rings?" He nodded, "Well I want to get it screwed up so I went to the magic district and went to a jeweler who I could explain it to. He did a damn good job."  
  
"I like the rings he made." Agreed Angel.  
  
"Well then Moony and I went to an apothecary and got some basic spell and potion stuff, and I had a look at new brooms. And I looked at wands but Buffy gave you mine in that box, so I didn't need one. And well to cut a long story short I bought some Floo Powder and put a few protection spells on Moon."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
How typically Spike, he had a whole day out and never told me. "You were gone two hours."  
  
He shrugged, "They took their sweet time at the deli," he said thinking that I was saying he'd been gone too long.  
  
"Wow."  
  
"You should really ask me what we do on our walks. Now go find me a piece of cardboard and we'll write our stiff letter."  
  
Rolling my eyes at his bad pun I found him some writing paper and within ten minutes we had drafted our letter.  
  
Dear Joanne,  
My sire Angelus (see chapter 24 of The History of Magic entitled "The Scourge of Europe and his Progeny") and I just read your fifth book. We liked it. I felt it was only outstripped by book four (which I largely liked due to the interaction of Snape and Sirius, seeing my two best friends hating each other was fun). Your characterization of Snape is comical, one of the best inside jokes I've seen in a long time. I don't know how eight year olds get through them as both Angelus and I blubbered when Sirius died. We're hoping he isn't dead because that would upset us. It is my belief that the arch led to Nebraska where he recuperates and then returns to England. I suggest that this is what happens. Wouldn't it be best for everyone if you listened to your readers?  
  
Respectfully,  
William the Bloody  
(See Hogwarts' a History chapter 12, "Odd Students," chapters 29 of The History of Magic "The Slayer of Slayers" and the new book: Spike- the Big Bad, the Wonderful Wizard, the Slayer of Slayers, and the Savior of Sunnydale)  
  
"Hey!" I said indignantly, "I had a lot written about me too!"  
  
"Yes," said Spike sounding like he was explaining something to a child, "but most of that shows you in a nice, positive, non-threatening light."  
  
"This isn't that threatening." I said reading it over.  
  
"You don't need to run around in leather pants screaming, "Look at me I'm evil!" to scare people. That's always been your problem. Sometime an understated menacing gets the job done more effectively then leaving a dead chick in someone's bed and cutting crosses into corpse."  
  
Smiling at his reasoning I said, "She might get a restraining order."  
  
"She can, that's fine. Anyway if she reads the biography on me she won't." He thought for a moment and then added a postscript to the letter which he read out loud. "PS: I was in Hufflepuff and I would appraise it muchly if you stopped making my house out to be naff."  
  
I smirked but kept myself from laughing. "How do you plan on getting this to her?"  
  
Will laughed ruefully, "I bought Moon an owl while we were out, he's due to arrive in an hour. He's a really beautiful barn owl. His cage is already here he's going to fly out later as he seemed to want to say goodbye."  
  
"You're such a softy. Shall we go then?" I asked.  
  
"Sure, we'll bring the baby. He's with Cor but I want Albus to check out my charms."  
  
"You've been practicing for forty years: they're fine."  
  
"Ok," he said nonchalantly, "we'll risk it then."  
  
"Go get the baby." I said resolutely.  
  
Ten minutes after quite a lot of explaining to Cordelia ("It's real? OMG!") we were ready to go. We instructed her to send the letter and were off. Stepping into the green flames I called out, "The headmasters' office of Hogwarts School, Great Britain." I held Conner in my arms as I began to spin. I hate traveling by Floo. I stepped out of the flames closely followed by Will.  
  
Albus looked up from the Daily Prophet and didn't seem to be surprised in the least, "Angel, William, won't you sit down?" He gestured to the plush chairs in front of his desk. My childe sat instantly; I was slower on the uptake. Though Spike revered the man as a god I found Albus unnerving. There was something cold in his eyes. His manner was always warm to William, and he was a great leader for the Wizarding community, but I felt in my gut that he never liked me.  
  
I realized suddenly that I had been addressed. "Excuse me?" I asked coming out of my reverie. 


	11. W is for Wizard part b

Title: The Lessons by Letters Series  
  
Part title: W is for Wizard (10b/26)  
  
Author: Azure K Mello  
  
Fandom: For the next few chapters with is a cross over with HP but if you don't read Harry Potter you can still read easily especially as I've rewritten most of the characters anyway as sort of a joke. You'll see.  
  
Spoilers: Non really, as this is AU of Angel this season. Spoilers for OotP (the last HP book)  
  
Rating- R for swearing  
  
Warning- clearly, this is in fact slash.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas. Harry Potter does not belong to me either.  
  
Archiving- the rest is here:  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rolling my eyes I took the baby from his arms. "I asked you to go find Minerva and have a chat."  
  
He smiled clearly uneasy at the prospect of leaving the baby with Albus, he had never really liked the man. But to be honest the feeling was mutual. Albus never trusted Angel due to the soul business: he always felt that if Angel had lost it he would've become Angel. Moreover Angelus had proved him right. All this had been confided to me when I had come to Albus after I had reclaimed my soul. He had chided me off and informed me that I had always been a good man. Unlike, he had sniffed, some unnamed vampires.  
  
Slowly it dawned on Angel that I was there and the baby was safe. As he shut the door behind him I heard the escalator like spiral staircase start to turn. Smiling I handed Moon to Albus. Dumbledore gasped as he looked at Conner. "Isn't he beautiful? So this is Angel and Darla's much prophesized son. Humm." He added the "humm" under his breath clearly thinking out loud as apposed to asking me.  
  
"Angel sounded odd when he spoke of another dark wizard rising. He sounded like he knew something. Like he wasn't pontification but thinking ahead. He has the sight he just pretends he doesn't. He's always been able to feel out rough water, it's where Dru got it from. He ignores it, pretends it isn't there but he has prophetic moments sometimes. So tell me now, is there something coming?"  
  
"I don't know," he sounded defeated and in awe, "There is a lot of odd power about. Some of which is radiating from this boy."  
  
"Oh," I laughed, "It's probably the protections spells I put on him. They're still pretty fresh and I went a bit overboard."  
  
"No, it's not your power. It's his."  
  
"That ridiculous I saw him when he's fifteen: he *isn't* a wizard."  
  
"From what you've said about this Holtz man and the way the boy was brought up it's more than likely that it was repressed."  
  
"Is that possible: to repress power. I thought fear brought it to the surface more rapidly. I thought that if it was there it was there, Professor."  
  
"Generally, no: you're right. But in rare situations it is very possible. If the man led him the dog's life you've described, in a hell dimension no less, it is very probable that the terror went straight over bringing the gift out to repressing it in fear that it would make matters worse."  
  
I was totally aghast at the idea of what Moon had been through, "So what should I do, Professor?"  
  
"For one thing you can stop calling me professor. I haven't taught you in forty years, I'm Albus to you. But all you can do for the boy is love him and take good care of him. And when, at age five, he sets fire to the dinner table congratulate him don't shout."  
  
"I can't call you Albus, Professor, you're an adult." I said in a scandalized hush.  
  
A hearty laugh met my statement in reply. "You're old enough to be my ancestor. Honestly, William, you are the oddest student I ever taught. And I mean that as a compliment."  
  
"Oh don't worry, it was received as one." I nodded and shrugged.  
  
"I read the biography."  
  
"Yeah, it was written post-postmortem so I got royalties, pity. I hear it's selling rather well."  
  
"I knew you wouldn't be gone long. Even when I read about the battle and your "final stand" I knew. You look wonderful for a dead man."  
  
I smiled ruefully, "The last two times you saw me I was in a state. Once because I had the chip and couldn't feed and was therefore a walking skeleton. And the second time I was a raving loony with a soul."  
  
His face darkened at the memory, "Are you going to acquire your soul again?"  
  
"No."  
  
The visage in front of me brightened quickly, "Sensible boy: you never did need it." He was vacantly rocking the baby. There was a lapse in conversation and then he said softly, "The offer is still on the table."  
  
The smirk snuck onto my face, "Albus," I smirked again, "Even I am too rational to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
"But you'd be so good at it, William!" he said coming as close to whining as he ever did.  
  
I shook my head, "Angel has a whole business set up in LA. I couldn't drag him here."  
  
Dumbledore seemed taken aback by this. "Oh," he said, "I didn't realize. I thought you were just here for the baby's sake."  
  
"I know you don't like him," I spoke slowly trying to gage my words so as not to offend him, "but he's good for me and I love him. So I hope you won't-"  
  
He cut me off quickly, "It's not that I don't like him: I do. It's just I'm very wary and I fear for him. I fear for you both. Anyway going back to the *important* topic you could apperate here and home. I'll give you clearance and modify the protection spell."  
  
"Good. And nice work on those charms."  
  
I was pleased with the compliment, "Yeah?"  
  
Rolling his eyes he laughed and gently chided me, "After forty years I would have thought you'd be over the need for my approval."  
  
"I didn't miss out any charms did I?" I asked anxiously.  
  
Smiling he pulled out a well worn copy of Protection Spells, Remedies, and Antidotes. "No," he said, "but take this to ease your mind."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I know it by heart; I've always been a worry wart."  
  
"Well thank you very much."  
  
"It might come in handy next semester."  
  
"Professor, I-"  
  
"I thought you were past that."  
  
I smiled, "I'm not promising anything but let me talk it over with Angel. Who's teaching it now?"  
  
Albus sighed heavily, as though the answer pained him. "Severus Snape. He's not made for the job, but I nearly begged him. He doesn't like children. . . or people in general, he's a much better potions master. It's all too stressful for him, he is desperate to get out."  
  
I felt my eyes widen at the thought of Snape having real interaction with his students. They must have ridden him roughshod, DAtDA? There was no way he could teach that, he could drill all the information into them but there was no way he was enjoying it or sleeping through the night. Down in his dungeons he was in complete control. He was safe and secure in the knowledge that he was the best person qualified to impart the knowledge into young minds but children frightened the otherwise laidback man, and if he didn't have a caldron between him and the class he was a mess. "I'll talk to Angel." There was silence for a moment and then, "Oh by the way, I sent a *slightly* threatening letter to Joanne Rowling, tell her to disregard it. . . not quickly mind you. Leave it until she comes to you and then tell her I have a warped sense of humor or something."  
  
He sighed in a long suffering kind of way, "When will you grow up and make it so I don't have to bail you out?" 


End file.
